nothing gold can stay

"Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay." -Robert Frost

-----

My kid recently checked out this interesting book from the library. 

 

It's titled Astonishing and Extinct Professions (89 Jobs You Will Never Do). It gives succinct descriptions of long-forgotten vocations, such as Whalebone Rippers, Armpit-Hair Pluckers (ouchie), Waker-Uppers, and so on (if you're looking for a gift to give a nephew, niece, or young cousin in your life, it's informative and enjoyable to read).

Three of the professions caught my ear as the book was read to me: the roles of 'Wailing Women (Professional Mourners)'/'Mutes' and 'Funeral Jesters.' In many ancient civilizations, these pros were paid to come to a funeral, cry, pull out their hair, spread ashes on themselves. They often didn't know the person who'd died. Their wailing helped the family and loves ones of the deceased grieve more deeply. 

 

The mutes were men hired to stand silently with the mourners, to look somber. They walked with the funeral procession. They wore all black, except if a child had died -- then they wore white.

 

The funeral jesters would imitate the deceased person during the funeral procession (can you imagine??). The jester would re-tell their favorite jokes, act out important life moments. They humorously revived the dead for one last time. This would give the grieving a chance to reminisce about the departed in a playful, loving way.

 

"Wow," I thought when I heard this. This reminded me that past civilizations and customs have a lot to teach me. I'm sure you could learn a lot too. There's such wisdom in these ancient practices. 

 

How often do we truly make purposeful effort for remembering good times, and for celebrating good things? How well do we make purposeful effort -- truly, set time aside -- for thoughtfully mourning sad things? Always in a hurry to move past. Onward and upward. Gotta get to the next task, gotta keep moving. Always something else to do, somewhere else to be.

 

The train almost never makes an extended pit stop.

Maybe it should.

To stop to acknowledge a blessing reminds us we've been blessed. It also helps counter the weight we feel when a blessed thing comes to an end. 

 

To stop to acknowledge a sadness reminds us that, save the love of God, nothing lasts forever. As good things come, good things go, and that is the reality of life. Nothing gold can stay. 

What's a blessing you have that you would do you well to stop, to ponder more, and to thank God for it? Surely there's some blessing.

What's a sadness you have that you would do well to stop, to ponder more, and to ask God for comfort and hope in your time of sorrow? Surely there's some sadness.

 

We rejoice, and we weep. Many sadnesses mourn blessings that were never designed to last forever.

 

A time to mourn, and a time to dance. Many blessings are of sadnesses vanquished.

 

God doesn't ask us to experience any feeling in this life that he hasn't experienced. It fills our hearts with joy to feel the blessings. And it hurts like hell to bear the sorrows.

"We are not infinite
We are not permanent
Nothing's immediate
And we pretend like we're immortal" -Gone (Switchfoot)

Gone - Switchfoot

dance on the teeth of pain

Science re-learned old truths about dancing. I love what this re-reminds us.

In a fresh-off-the-presses study published in the BMJ (British Medical Journal), physical exertion was compared for how well it helped people who suffer with depression.

As you've heard before, exercise helps to fight back against depression's tentacles of despair.

But that's not what -- in this study -- caught my attention. 

It was this, from page 8: 

Dancing does the most to ward off depression. Dancing, by itself. 

Dancing! Better than yoga, mindfulness, tai chi.

"We're going out dancin'

Chase our blues away..." 

-Go Out Dancing, Rod Stewart

"Just dance, 

gonna be OK..." 

-Just Dance, Lady Gaga

"You turned my wailing into dancing, 

you removed my sackcloth 

and clothed me with joy..." -Psalm 30:11

I love when super-smart people (scientists, in this instance) reaffirm wisdom that the Bible elaborated upon in ancient times. We should dance. 

How many times has this happened to you: You're supposed to go out. But you're in a cranky, funky,  nothing-fits-right, life-sucks sort of mood. You rather wallow in this vibe, listen to your sad playlists, eat chips, play a video game, and doom-scroll. BUT you already said you'd show up.

"I don't even know if I want to go," you think. "I'm not feeling it."

But you force yourself to get out. You push yourself to be with people enjoying themselves. And voila -- you have a much, much MUCH better time than you would've predicted.

"Here we have a lot of fun,

Putting trouble on the run,

You find the old & young

Twistin' the night away" 

-Twistin' The Night Away, Sam Cooke

I look closer at these songs about dancing I mentioned above, and I see something I missed before. The lyrics all juxtapose dancing with the chasing away of trouble. Psalm 30 also does this. 

It's as though God designed it like this: dancing plays a role in reinforcing to us that, with our Lord, it'll be OK. The specter of doom wilts on the dance floor.

Of course it's natural to sometimes feel depressed. But why should depression get unresisted squatter's rights on our moods and days? Just because we're in that state doesn't mean we should -- without protest -- accede to all it brings. We can try to push back a little bit. We can work to stand up underneath it.

Sometimes we gotta kick pain in the mouth, and then dance on depression's busted teeth and gums.

I say this with supreme confidence: you do not dance as often as you could. Go do something about that, even if you feel self-conscious. Go get after places and times to dance.

"And David danced before the Lord 

with all his might"-2 Samuel 6:14